


Envious

by Capucine



Series: Dark Hetalia: Cardverse [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cardverse, De-Aged Molossia, Harm to Children, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3689895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur, pregnant with another's child, tries to win back his King, Alfred. But Alfred won't give him the opportunity to do so; instead, his time is occupied with the new Jack,  Jacob (Molossia).</p>
<p>Given how much time that Jacob takes up, Arthur figures he had better clear Alfred's schedule, and fast.</p>
<p>Perhaps Alfred will learn his lesson this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Envious

**Author's Note:**

> Jacob = Molossia  
> Carinne Vel = Seychelles

It was getting beyond ridiculous. 

Arthur watched with his green eyes, not caring to disguise his envy as Alfred held onto Jacob's chubby hands and walked him around the throne room. It was a break between hearing the complaints of the people and lunch, and oh, like every other break, it was spent with the Jack of Spades, Jacob.

Jacob was nearing a year old, if his wench mother could be trusted to remember when he was born. And Alfred had apparently decided that the Jack of Spades was always to be his companion, and never his _Queen_ , the one whose sole purpose in life was to serve him. Jacob had decided to call him 'Dalfred,' apparently a mix between 'Dad' and 'Alfred.' He should have been calling him, 'King Alfred' or 'Your Majesty.'

“Alfred,” Arthur said, clacking his short nails on the armrests of his own throne, “Don't you think the nanny can do that? Or the wet nurse, perhaps? Someone besides the most powerful man in the Spades Kingdom?”

And there came that look in his eyes, that shielded steel. “What business is it of yours what I do with the Jack?”

Arthur clenched his teeth, letting out a sharp breath through his nose. Alfred always had to say things like that, shut him away from him and act like Arthur was a torment and not a gift.

A gift he would not continue to refuse without consequences.

Jacob seemed to pick up on the tension, and started to cry. His nanny, a blond standing off to the side, said, “Your Majesty, I will take him if that is what you, like, desire.”

However, as if he was the mite's father, Alfred cradled him in his arms, slowly rocking and humming. He should have been doing this with his and Arthur's children. Instead, he did not even allow Arthur into his chambers anymore.

“There's a good boy, Jacob,” he said, as the infant calmed in his arms. Arthur could see the baby trying to suck both thumbs at once. “Just one thumb at a time,” Alfred said, gently taking the extra thumb from Jacob's mouth.

It was hard not to grind his teeth. It was even harder not to go and slap the baby out of his arms. That should be his baby, Arthur kept repeating to himself, unwilling to let it go.

Arthur stood abruptly, stalking from the room. Alfred didn't say anything to stop him from going.

Arthur was due any day now, heavily pregnant belly swollen like a watermelon. Any day now, Arthur would have his bastard child, and perhaps Alfred would see that he should have children by him. Jacob was at best a nuisance, one that would never carry on their family line. Once Arthur had his baby, he was sure that Alfred would be eager to have little ones by him, like they were supposed to.

And yet, still, his nerves ran high. This child was a bastard, and what if he only got pregnant once in his life? What if he had used up his only chance?

He shoved the door open to his chambers, and with a sigh, waddled over to his chair. He sat still, but soon enough his lady-in-waiting, the trusted Juanita, was there. 

She eyed his pregnant belly, but she said nothing about him. Instead, she had an almost empathetic tone, saying, “Did you want more strawberries with cream, or are you craving shrimp once more?”

Arthur waved his hand at her dismissively. “No, no, I'm not hungry. I'm just tired and aching.”

Juanita eased his feet out of his highly decorative, but not very functional, shoes. “I would expect it. When I had both of mine, I was on bed rest for a month.”

Arthur vaguely remembered that Juanita had two children, a boy and a girl, that had been whisked away at young ages to be trained to serve himself and the King. It didn't occur to him to feel sympathy. “He should be paying attention to me. It may not be his child, but I'm his wife! The Queen of all of the Spades Kingdom! He disrespects me.”

Juanita's hands were like magic, rubbing his feet. “You need to do something that will bring his attention back to you,” she said, shaking her head. “Perhaps remind him of why he liked you in the first place?”

Arthur thought hard. Why had Alfred liked him in the first place? They'd known they were each other's beloved since a young age, while the regent ruled over the land. Alfred had constantly made a game of snatching things from Arthur, the elder child, and running away with them. He'd always related more to the Jack, Yao, who was practically an adult by the time they were young teenagers.

That made Arthur's gut boil with anger. 

It was Yao who had taught Alfred how to dance properly. It was Yao who made his eyes light up, made him jump to his feet and beg to be taught something, anything, from the graceful Jack's repertoire of skills.

But then, then the magic had happened. He'd been 17, Alfred 14, and Alfred had gently kissed him and shoved a necklace into his hands. It had a black pearl as a pendant, and Alfred had insisted earnestly that he wear it at all times.

Then he'd taken to holding Arthur's hand in public, palm always sweaty.

When they were finally crowned King and Queen at 18 and 21, Alfred had gone completely glee-struck by the money at their disposal, the great balls they would hold, the glorious campaigns he would go on.

What had he liked about Arthur?

“I don't know what he likes,” Arthur grumbled, feeling the child move within him.

Juanita sighed, saying, “Your Majesty, I think you might want to figure it out. Without that, you'll never go back to a good place with him.”

She didn't add that the King had said he would never forgive Arthur, that he hated him and wished he could put his head on a pike. Alfred would never follow through on such things; he didn't have the guts that Arthur did.

Arthur stewed, but finally said, “Juanita, leave me. I need time to think.”

“Of course,” Juanita said smoothly, and she exited his chambers.

Thoughts were coming and going; was there any way to make his child look like theirs? No, unlikely. Perhaps convincing him to go to war again would make him forget Yao? No again, because then he would be entirely removed from Arthur. What could he do about Jacob?

This question stuck. He thought on it for several moments, but then a golden idea slipped into his brain.

“Juanita!” he cried, and she entered from her chambers adjoining his. 

“Yes?”

“Please,” he said, trying to keep the glittering excitement out of his voice, “Send for the Jack's wet nurse. I should like to speak to him.”

Males' breasts did not swell as much as a female's might, when it came to nursing, but Arthur could see the slight bulge against the boy's simple, straight-cut shirt as he entered the room, hands trembling as he knelt before him.

He was very young, probably fifteen. Probably married to some lower noble, and thus deemed worthy of being the Jack's wet nurse. His hair was kind of curly, and he looked up with purplish eyes. “Y-Your Majesty? You called for me?”

“Yes,” Arthur said, smiling at him. “What is your name? I do believe I've heard it, but I may be wrong; you're a baron's wife, aren't you?”

The boy nodded. “My name is Raivis Galante,” he said softly, still looking unsurely at Arthur. 

“Are you married?” Arthur asked, though he knew it was an obvious question.

Raivis flushed, and immediately stuttered, “Yes, yes, of course!” His eyes seemed to linger on Arthur's pregnant belly, an almost wistful air as he did so.

“Have a drink,” Arthur said with a smile, directing him to rise with his hand. Raivis nervously got to his feet, and when Arthur patted the seat next to him, got into it without a word.

Juanita poured Raivis a drink, and handed him the goblet.

Arthur continued to smile at Raivis. “How are you liking life at the palace? You can't have been here long.”

Raivis nodded, saying, “I...I like it, except for the part where everyone's scared-- I mean, oh--”

He looked horrified, but Arthur just laughed.

“Come come, you can speak honestly here. Nothing will go beyond these walls, I promise.” Arthur patted his stomach, saying, “Not Peter or Alice, not me, and not Juanita; we won't take these things where you can't have them heard.”

Raivis's face was pale. He down the entire goblet in one gulp. Juanita poured him another drink without prompting, from the specific bottle that Arthur had told her to. “I... I'm not good at court life,” he muttered, already drinking the next glass.

Arthur gently put a hand on Raivis's trembling hand. His fingers felt cold. “It's all right. You come from the Clubs court, don't you? Is it so different there?”

“I was a child in the Clubs Kingdom,” Raivis sighed, and then pointed to his left hand. “I got married at thirteen,” he said, the plain gold ring on his finger showing he belonged to someone.

Just like Arthur belonged to Alfred. Arthur smiled again, saying, “May I ask how you came to be a wet nurse for the Jack?”

Raivis's face seemed to fall, though it was hardly 'up' before. “I... my baby was stillborn. My husband...” he seemed unsure if he should go on.

Arthur nodded encouragingly, as Raivis gulped down more wine and Juanita poured him more.

Raivis's face crumpled. “He beat me. He said I was no good for babies, that I would end his line... He volunteered me to be wet nurse to the Jack.” He was obviously trying not to cry, alcohol surely doing in his ability to control his emotions. He was quick to add, horror clear in his face, “I-I love the Jack! I do! I just miss my baby...”

“I understand,” Arthur said, patting Raivis on the cheek. He nodded to Juanita to stop pouring him wine.

Raivis nearly fell down when he tried to stand, saying, in hiccuping little cries, “I miss her. She's supposed to be here, I know she is!”

Juanita caught his arms, keeping the boy from hitting the ground.

Arthur smiled at her, saying, “I'd say Raivis is indisposed. Would you return him to his room, please?”

It would be feeding time for Jacob, in a few hours. Arthur smiled in a friendly way towards the boy meant to feed the infant, and watched as Juanita took Raivis to his room.

It was only four hours later that there were screams coming from the area of the infant's chambers, and of course, Arthur had to see it, so he waddled out and got in the way of the commotion.

Raivis was the one screaming, and the blond nanny, Feliks, apparently keeping his head, was spreading his arms out to clear room for-- of course, Jacob. The infant shook violently, making whimpering, choked off screams.

The various maids and nurses were panicking, crying, and Feliks shouted, “Stop it! He needs room!”

“What if he chokes to death on his tongue?” one male servant demanded, voice shrill.

“We need to give him water!” a maid shouted.

“No, just room! Get the fuck out of here!” Feliks snarled, and apparently he'd put his soft nanny's apron under the babe's head.

Arthur watched, and was nearly bowled over when Alfred arrived on the scene.

His voice was frantic. “What's wrong with Jacob? What's going on?”

Feliks said, obviously fighting to stay calm, “He's having a fit of some kind, I don't know why! You should call in your physician like now!”

Alfred had never looked this concerned about Arthur. He looked like the Jack was his entire world. “Okay, okay! You, go get Doctor Vel!”

The doctor was rushed in. Arthur knew her as Carinne Vel, the upbeat woman who had once been the doctor to one of King Francis of Hearts' children. She had since moved up in the world, and yet still wore her hair in two pigtails, tied with red ribbons.

Carinne dropped to her knees next to Feliks, gently feeling the jerking and whimpering infant. She put her fingers to his neck. The fear was quite evident on the Jack's face, and it seemed like he was trying to reach out to someone, anyone, to take him out of the painful mess.

Arthur had never seen Carinne more somber. As Jacob's body slowed its jerking and slowly went down to a quiet, tired sound coming from his throat, she seemed entirely unsure of what could be causing it.

“King Alfred,” she said softly, as she lifted Jacobs hand and let it drop lifelessly to the floor, “He is paralyzed.”

Jacob's eyes still looked about, and his mouth formed a whispering, weak, “Dalfred?”

Alfred dropped down next to Jacob, pulling him into his arms. “My poor Jacob,” he said, voice nearly breaking; it sounded choked with tears. “My poor baby...”

Arthur dropped back and out of the crowd. He shouldn't be seen when Alfred was sad, or he might associate him with the sadness.

He heard soon enough that Raivis's left arm had gone completely paralyzed within the next couple of hours, and he was blamed for having bad milk, or else being sick and passing it on to the infant. He was sent home in shame to the Baron, a man of 53, Arthur heard not long after.

It didn't matter. Soon enough, Peter or Alice would be born, and Arthur would not have to worry much about Jacob butting in.

But he could never quite escape that haunted look in Alfred's eyes, the way all hope left his vision as he looked at his Queen.

That would soon change, Arthur told himself. That would soon change.


End file.
